Delusional
by Lochness Nova
Summary: SoMa- Soul has spent months trying to heal his broken soul and can't seem to remember his meister's name. EDIT- THANK YOU FOR MERMAIN FOR TELLING ME THAT THE FORMATING WAS ALL WACKED! It's all fixed now so please give this story another try!


A collab fic with hugtheboyinthebluehoodie~

She originally created this story herself and posted it on her tumblr. When she showed me, I felt inspired by it and wanted to expand it so we both brainstormed a little and I typed this here~

Also, A big warm thank you to zxanthe for being a wonderful beta~

AND THANK YOU TO MERMAIN123 FOR TELLING ME THAT THE STORY WAS ALL WEIRD AND SCREWED UP I'M SO SORRY BECAUSE HECKA PEOPLE READ IT IN THAT FORMAT AND I'M SO SORRY PLEASE GIVE THIS ANOTHER TRY

* * *

Soul paced around the living room, catching flashes of soft ash hair and brilliant emerald eyes wherever he turned. Every time he saw them, a ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. He knew exactly who it was. She was a playful creature, always eluding him and eternally playing a game of hide and seek. He thought he caught her once while exiting the bathroom at three A.M, but she disappeared every time he focused on his favorite shade of green and blonde.

He shook his head. The phantom girl had only held a close resemblance to her—his meister. He know the hallucination wasn't her. There was no spark, no life, no sound, no laughter, and no love. There was no pitter-patter of her footprints as she crossed from her room to his to scold him about his bad habits. There was no constant yelling coming from the kitchen after the refrigerator door slammed close. There was no more music in his life nor would there be ever again.

He remembered when her melody would spread through the room during the hot summer days after arriving home from chasing monsters and demons that lurked in the dark. He remembered relaxing on the couch, knowing she would be only a few inches away tucked into a massive novel. He remembered her bright smile when she noticed him staring, open like a loyal puppy.

The pleasant memories ceased abruptly. He remembered crawling home alone, smeared in blood and dirt. He remembered black suits, black dresses, and a black world. He didn't want to remember the rest.

Soul walked to the kitchen. What was a home? Home was where she was, where she lived, where she stayed, where she opened her arms to him. She was his home, but now, he was homeless. He opened the liquor cabinet and grabbed the first drink he touched, transforming his hand into a dull blade and smashing the top of the bottle. He held the opening to his lips and felt the shattered glass cut the tender flesh. He slid his on back down the counter and collapsed onto the filthy floor that was littered with a variety of empty bottles, already feeling the numbing buzz of alcohol.

He couldn't remember her name, couldn't remember her hands, couldn't remember her soul. The whiskey was a poor substitute for her essence and it tasted nothing like her cherry lips. Had he ever tasted her lips? He couldn't remember nor did he want to remember. He took another sip of whiskey.

He turned his vision to the wisps of memories that plagued his heart, seeing a pair of emerald eyes peering back at him. His stomach leapt. It was her again. She who followed him for months. She who hid herself from his woeful cries. She who he could never touch again.

* * *

The last place where he felt her life was in Italy. They were a part of an elite team sent out to subdue the last rouge witch in the Warlock Realm. They were also the only pair who managed to enter her territory. They approached her with caution in their step, knowing that this was also one of the most powerful witches of the realm. They knew of the rumors that whispered of the secret weapon up her sleeve. This woman had taunted Lord Death the Kid, speaking of her research and how she'd found a way to bring down anyone, even the best meister-weapon pair of this generation.

Soul and his meister had years of experience and hearts that spilled with courage and love for each other. They had created one of the strongest resonances since the days of Lord Death and the Dark Ages. They volunteered to go battle the hermit crab witch, Spiria, knowing that it was the only way to restore balance to the world.

They engaged Spiria in battle, dodging every one of her spike missiles. They battered her shell and managed to slice half her locks off her head. They danced together in battle, souls in perfect resonance. They granted Spiria one more minute to spill her mind and offer her final words on her last breath. It was a mistake.

"_Soul Jam__._"

Soul's meister was ripped from his dark room, locked out and away with a new intruder in his mind. The oni made his way to Soul, his face twisted and reflecting Spiria's sneer. Her laughter manifested as spikes that stabbed viciously through his four walls. The wallpaper dripped black blood all around Soul and he felt like his very spirit was being ripped to pieces.

He gathered his head between his thighs. Where was she, where was his meister? He could still feel a small connection, tugging from her end. It desperately kept them in contact but he knew it was damaged and shook with instability. He couldn't hear her voice and worse, couldn't reach back to her soul.

He turned his wavelength at himself and focused on the spikes that hindered him. His web wrapped around them and tried to loosen the hold. Spiria and the oni's cackling continued to mix together, weakening Soul's heart one crack at a time.

"_Soul!_"

He opened his eyes. His lovely meister's voice commanded him. It struck a chord in the space within him where she would always be. His webs grew stronger, pulling and dislodging the spikes from his soul, and thrust them outwards. One of them impaled the witch and Oni in a single brutal strike, causing them to vanish.. Gone were the chains, but his connection to his meister was severed.

He couldn't see the outside world, didn't know what happened outside of his black room. He transformed from metal to skin and stepped into a puddle of black blood.

He saw Spiria on the ground with her own spikes protruding from her body and her neck laid at an awkward angle, still breathing but just barely. His eyes trailed the dirt floor until he met ashy blonde dipped in black. He fell onto his knees with his hands shaking and his identity lost.

"_Maka?_"

Her body laid in a mixture of crimson and noir, swirling around as more red dripped. Her elegant green eyes were wide open, staring at the bloody spike that had pierced her heart. There was a layer of thin, white silk on the surface, just like a spider's web.

Emerald met garnet. She struggled to speak, struggled to do anything, really, except hold her hand out to Soul. He held it with his own, pressing it close to his heart. He watched the life flicker and drain from his favorite eyes, and with it, his humanity.

Her arm dropped from his grip and his sanity slipped away with her. He turned to Spiria, sprouting blades from every part of his body.

"_Die_, witch."

He couldn't remember what happened next.

* * *

Soul spent the days that followed washing his hands under the sink, unable to get rid of the red that stained them.

He spent the weeks that followed sobbing his meister's name in the darkness of her room. One day, the name became a string of sounds that held no real meaning, only the memory of the man he used to be.

He spent the months that followed drowning in alcohol to keep the vision of kind eyes and a precious jewel in his heart. He forgot who they belonged to and their owner's name.

Soul sighed and lifted the bottle back up to his bloody lips.

He did not want to remember anymore.


End file.
